


After thought

by OTyPical (Littlenerdyotaku)



Category: Will Grayson Will Grayson - John Green & David Levithan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 01:59:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18420510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlenerdyotaku/pseuds/OTyPical
Summary: I'm in desperate need of Will/Tiny fanfics so I wrote one myselfOr:What should have happened after the musical.





	After thought

i have this sick feeling in my gut. the kind you get before big tests or presentations, if you have a social anxiety. i don't. but something's big about to happen, and maybe because of me. which is weird, because the main event of today has already passed - the musical, the other will graysons, the crazy plan that should've failed but didn't.

gideon is waiting for me in the car - i told him i had to go to the toilet. i'm not sure why i lied, but he probably didn't buy it anyway. i'm not the greatest liar. i usually prefer to just shut up until they leave the subject.

instead, i'm running behind the scenes, elbowing people if they don't move fast enough (which is about 80% of them, if i'm being honest).

i've been telling myself i'm over tiny for weeks now. since the day i cut it off, more or less.

but if you really are over someone, you don't mind it when your shoes don't match your shirt. and you don't feel the fear of coming off too strong or scaring him away, because, well, if you're over, what's the harm in not speaking to him ever again? and you really, definitely, especially, don't feel like you'd rather be any other person with your name, especially the sex god who has his number and an actual chance.

because if you do, you're not over them.

i finally reach tiny's inner circle. he's laughing at something someone just said to him, so his cheeks are puffed out and all round and soft in the edges, and his eyes are closed, so he doesn't notice me.

it's my chance to bolt, to let that big, insane, production be the big boom in which i exit his life.

me: can we talk?

i'm hyper-aware of how sweaty my palms are, and how my shirt is crumpled in about thirty different places, and i still have chocolate smeared on my knee. of how people around us had suddenly gone quiet - or maybe it's just my mind, blocking out everything that isn't the sound of my blood pumping through my veins, and tiny's voice, saying  
tiny: okay. yeah. can you wait, like, twenty minutes?

twenty minutes are apparently forty seven, but eventually he sits down next to me on the bench outside. i'm picking the peeling paint. he watches.

tiny: hi.  
me: hi.  
me: i was a dick.  
tiny: yeah, pretty much.

isn't he supposed to disagree? that's the polite thing to do, even if i did say it first. maybe he's still mad.

me: i want to try again.

tiny makes a sound that's somewhere between choking and gurgling.  
for once in his life, he seems at an entire loss of words. like he physically can't piece together the sounds that his brain is telling him to make. or maybe his brain is the one circuiting.

me: not right now, if you don't want to. a week, a month - hell, even a year, if that's what it takes. not even as a couple - just friends, or acquaintances that text each other regularly.   
but i want to try again, because it was really one of the only good things in my life. you were.  
you said it yourself - i never let myself see how i could have it so good, and now i do, and i was so, so stupid and please, just -

i'm not sure at which part of my little speech i start crying, but i can feel the wetness on my cheek, dripping down to my collar and under it. choking the words that spill out of my throat. maybe it's a good thing, because i'm just blabbering now, afraid of hearing his answer. maybe if i just talk forever, he would be socially obligated to listen. and he would stay.

i feel his hand on my shoulder, brushing against my cheek.

tiny: okay.

 


End file.
